


In which Gil is not pining

by Overlord_Bethany



Series: Always Send Knives [2]
Category: Girl Genius (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, Paris hijinks, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2019-06-17 10:40:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15459558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Overlord_Bethany/pseuds/Overlord_Bethany
Summary: *no one else believes that even for a moment





	In which Gil is not pining

Gil stared up at the ceiling. The hard dormitory mattress pressed against his back, and his thoughts whirled with the day’s events. He had always known that someday he would see Tarvek again, but somehow he had been unprepared for the reality of their reunion. Why had he never expected Tarvek’s first reaction to be one of anger?

He thought about Tarvek’s words. _You sent me back home! To wither in isolation with those miserable—_

It was true. Gil had cause Tarvek’s expulsion from Castle Wulfenbach. It didn’t matter that he had never intended for any of it to happen. The sooner he owned his culpability in those unfortunate events, the sooner they could all move on. But what could he do? Send a note? A basket of pastries with an apology on nice stationery? Where did he even begin with this kind of situation? Nothing in any of his education had prepared him to apologize to a friend he had hurt. In fact, if observation proved true, the Wulfenbach Way would be to continue to push away friends both past and present, and live in a bubble of surly self-isolation.

Gil wanted to apologize. He wanted a chance to have his best friend back.

He had no idea where to start.

“Look at _you_.” Her grin obvious in her voice, Bangladesh Dupree flopped down on the narrow bed beside him. Her head bumped against his, and her legs must have dangled off the side. “Not two weeks in Paris, and already pining? Little Gilgamesh is growing up so fast!” She faked a sniffle.

“Pining?” Gil repeated, baffled. Could one pine for a friendship?

“It’s all over your face.”

“It’s really not,” Gil said, despite his complete ignorance of his own expression. It must drift toward annoyance now.

“Go on.” Dupree dug her elbow into his side. “Tell me who the unlucky moron is.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. Spill it, Gil. Is is Colette? She’s so out of your league. She—”

“It’s not Colette,” Gil snapped.

“Well, of course not,” Dupree continued, unruffled. “It had better not be that Zola twit. She’s not worth you. Oooooh, is it that Wooster guy? You were _all over_ him the other day—”

“Dupree, I _fell_ on him.”

“Suuuuuuuure you did.” She nudged him again. “A clever cover, brain boy! The two of you would make a cute couple, you know. If you want I could—”

“DUPREE!”

“What?”

With a sigh, Gil rolled onto his side, his back to the pirate beside him. “I’m not pining.” He thought of the shock and hurt on Tarvek’s face. How could he fix this?

“If you could see yourself, you would know you’re lying.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Gil protested. “Shouldn’t I know if I’m lying?”

Dupree made a rude noise.

“I’m not pining,” Gil repeated, less confident than ever. What would Tarvek think of this conversation? The years had changed him, that much Gil knew. Everything about him felt more detached, more guarded. He was no longer the boy who had leapt to Gil’s defense.

His heart ached at the thought, a pain nearly physical, like a fragment of hot steel lodged in his chest. Gil drew his limbs inward, as though he could huddle the pain away. He already knew he couldn’t trust Tarvek, especially not with his true identity, but he had never expected this ache, this bone-deep yearning for the days when they shared all of their secrets together. His clumsy prying into his own secrets had ruined everything. If he hadn’t gone looking for the truth…

A knock at the door startled him out of his thoughts. Dupree bounced off the bed and yelled, “It’s open!” Gil remained where he lay.

The door eased open, and Ardsley Wooster peered around it. “Pardon the intrusion—Ah, is he feeling well?”

Dupree gave Gil’s leg a smack. “He’s fine! Just pining, and he won’t give up any details.”

Wooster eyed Gil. “You don’t look fine.”

Why was everyone suddenly so concerned? He scowled.

“Shouldn’t we be worried about classes starting tomorrow?”

“That’s actually why I’m here.” Wooster tossed a box onto Gil’s neglected desk. He’d had nine days to settle in, and he still hadn’t unpacked his notes. “Morale boosters.”

Curious, Gil sat up. “What kind of morale boosters?”

Dupree snatched up the box and ripped it open. “New notebooks, some nice pens—I bet you could kill someone with this one.” As she spoke, she tossed items onto the desk. “Some sort of fancy pants math stuff, an application for a library card, _Dubious Coctails_ —that’s a book—and… Oh, this one’s mine!” She held up a complete list of all restaurants, bars, and cafes that offered student discounts.

“I have misgivings about your valet,” Wooster said to Gil. He grinned.

“You know, so do I.”

Wooster gave them both an appraising stare. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Well…” This was probably a bad idea. Gil slid off the bed and slouched across the room to Wooster. “Do you know anything about apologizing to someone?”

“Send knives,” Dupree suggested. “You can’t go wrong with knives.”

Gil rolled his eyes. Hopefully, Wooster would have better ideas.


End file.
